WORD WIZ - A Playlet by NS Murty

Old Man: Who taught child Shakespeare all the
stories which later become his literary corpus.

Boy 1 }

Boy 2 } Children playing rugby who accidentally
stumble upon the Oldman

Girl 1 }

Girl 2 }

Shakespearean
Characters and text

Miranda: } From The
Tempest Act I Scene II

Prospero: }

Polonius: }
From Hamlet, The Prince of Denmark Act I
Scene III

Hamlet }
Act III Scene I

Romeo: } From Romeo and Juliet Act II Scene
II

Juliet: }

Portia: } From The Merchant of Venice, Act IV
Scene I

Arragon: }
Act
II Scene IX

King Lear }
From King Lear, Act IV Scene VI and Act V Scene III

Gloucester }

Edgar }

Brutus }
From Julius Caesar Act III Scene II

Sir John Falstaff} From King Henry IV, Act V Scene
I

Cassandra }
From Troilus and Cressida, Act II, Scene II

And ………………Spirits, Ghosts, Apparitions, Witches,
Fairies and their ilk.

(From
the top branch of Muse

An
eerie melody sweeps through ether

Matter
springs to life for a while to amuse

And
the spirit returns, saying it doesn’t matter)

A
humble tribute to his master by a subject

On the eve
of his 400th Death Anniversary

The
Word Wiz

(Playlet)

(Note:
All text in italics other than stage directions is Shakespearean)

When the curtain
raises the fade out is on the memorial of Shakespeare. It will be in the
typical Indian fashion: The bust of the bard in ruins sitting on a high
platform, dusty and faded, wrapped in cobwebs and littered with bird droppings.
The place looks dark, desolate and remote. Foot of the platform littered with
dry leaves all over. The growth of bushes and the dust collecting over betray
that it has been abandoned for long.

From afar children
playing rugby, their cries, their calls, their shouts and hullaballoo is heard.

As the stage gets
slowly illuminated an old man enters from one end of the stage and slowly
passes by it. He stops and looks at the statue for a while putting his
hand over his eyes and then suddenly exclaims

Old man: “Oh! Me! Gee
god! What a curse!”…

(He dusts the
statue passionately with his hands and his towel and cleans the surrounds
plucking few plants from the neighbourhood.)

When I told you those myths and legends

They were just that.

But when you breathed life into ’em

On this Globe, they just walked into every home

God had summoned Light

But failed to keep his work intact.

Then came you, to complement his acquit,

It is no hyperbole, his whole, your ‘less’
dominate’.

His make withered… See you me?

While yours, walks free, steeple chasing time.

(Wind changes
direction frequently putting to nought what he had done earlier. Then on one
occasion he roars at it)

“You element! Are you in your elements?

Know you what you have been doing?

Rage as you wish elsewhere.

But here, weave as gentle not to move a feather

The Bard is resting here under.

Might be scripting a tale or two to the new
audiences.”

(The wind ceases. As
he resumes his work, children playing rugby enter chasing a ball that has come
off-the-stage. The ball hits the old man. All of them halt and put on faces of
regret. One of the boys comes forward.)

Boy1: We
are so very sorry. It was an accident.

Our playfulness over ran our propriety.

But Sir! What are you doing at this forlorn place?

Old man: It’s Easter
today

But it seems it was only yesterday.

I was sitting under that tree

When youth of your age used to flock around me

Pestering to tell them a tale each day.

Girl1: Oh! Then I get you. You’re the famed
story teller.

My granny tells many stories about you.

Where have you been all along?

Why don’t you sing us that “All the world is a
stage…”

Boy
2 (to
other boys) Boys!
It’s quits for the game.

(With the old man)
Tell us some stories.

All
Yes, we want to hear some stories.

(In
chorus): It
was long since we heard any story.

Boy
2: No, but first that song.

Old man: Music
and tales are so close to your heart, I know.

But tell me do you want the song or the tale first.

All:
We want the song
first.

(Old man sings the song ‘All the world is a
stage…’

As he begins the song, fade out will be on him.)

(As he sings the
song characters from his plays come one after another and enact the seven
stages of life. The stage is divided between the old man and the
characters and the focus will be alternating between them. When the old
man sings the line “…at first an infant, mewing and puking in the nurse’s
arms…” The scene from The Tempest Act I
Scene II is enacted when Prospero speaks to Miranda)

“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and
women are players;

They have their exits and entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts, the acts
being seven ages.

At first the infant, mewing and puking in the
nurse’s arms….

(A
howling of Tempest precedes the entry of characters)

“Miranda: “(Father!)

You have often

Begun to tell me what I am; but stopped,

And left me to a bootless inquisition,

Concluding, ‘stay: not yet.’

Prospero: (Miranda!)

The hour’s now come;

The very minute bids thee open thine ear;

Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember

A time before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou canst, for then thou was not

Out three years old.

Miranda:
Certainly, sir, I can.

Prospero: By
what? By any other house, or person?

Of anything the image tell me, that

Hath kept with thy remembrance.

Miranda:
‘Tis far off;

And rather like a dream, than an assurance

That my remembrance warrants. Had I not

Four or five women once, that tended me?

Pros:
Thou hadst, and more, Miranda.
But how is it

That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou
else

In the dark backward and abysm of time?

If thou remember’st aught, ere thou cam’st here,

How thou cam’st here, thou may’st.

Miranda: But
that I do not.

Prospero: Twelve
year since, Miranda, twelve year since

Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and

A prince of power.

Miranda: Sir,
are not you my father?

Prospero: Thy
mother was a piece of virtue, and

She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father

Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir

A princess; no worse issued.

Miranda:
O, the heavens!

What foul play had we that we came from thence?

Or blessed wasn’t we did?

Prospero:
Both, both, my girl:

By foul play, as thou say’st, we were heaved

Thence;

But blessedly holp hither.

Miranda: My
heart bleeds

To think of the teen that I have turned you to,

Which is from my remembrance.

[Focus shifts back to
the old man. As he sings: ‘ then the whining school boy, with his satchel, and
shining morning face, creeping like a snail unwillingly to school’ ………. the
scene from The Hamlet Act I scene III is enacted where Polonius gives
advice to his son Laertes:]

“Polonius: Yet here, Laertes! Aboard, aboard, for
the shame!

The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,

And you are stay’d for. There; my blessing

With thee!

And these few precepts in thy memory

See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,

Nor any unproportion’d thought his act.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar;

The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,

Grapple them to your soul with hoops of steel;

But do not dull thy palm with entertainment

Of each new-hatch’d, unfledg’d comrade.
Beware

Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,

Bear‘t that the opposed may beware of these.

Give everyman thine ear, but few thy voice;

Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgement.

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy;

For the apparel oft proclaims the man,

And they in France of the best rank and station

Are most select and generous, chief in that.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be;

For loan oft loses both itself and a friend,

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This above all; to thine own self be true,

And it must follow, as night the day,

Thou canst not then be false to any man.

Farewell; my blessing season this in thee!”

Old man Sings…

(As he sings “And
then the lover, sighing like furnace, with woeful ballad made to his mistress’
eyebrow”the scene from Romeo and Juliet Act II Scene II is enacted
where Romeo speaks to Juliet by her window)

“Romeo: By
a name I know not how to tell thee who I am;

My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,

Because it is an enemy to thee;

Had I it written, I would tear that word.

Juliet:
My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words

Of that tongue’s utterance, yet I know the sound:

Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?

Romeo:
Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.

Juliet:
How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?

The orchard walls are high and hard to climb;

And the place death, considering who thou art,

Of any of my kinsman find thee here.

Romeo:
With love’s light wings did I o’er-perch these walls;

For stony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do that dares love attempt;

And therefore your kinsmen are no stop to me.

Juliet:
If they do see they will murder thee.

Romeo:
Alack! There lies more peril in thine
eye

Than twenty of their swords; look thou but sweet,

And I am proof against their enmity

Juliet:
I would not for the world they saw thee
here,

Romeo:
I have night’s cloak to hide from
their eyes;

And but thou love me, let them find me here;

My life were better ended by their hate,

Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.”

Old man: Sings

As he
sings “then a soldier, full of strange oaths, and bearded like a pard,
jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, seeking the babble reputation
even in the cannon’s mouth” the scene from The Merchant of Venice Act II
Scene IX when the prince of Arragon makes his bid to select the right casket is
enacted: Flourish of Cornets. Enter the Prince of Arragon, Portia, with
their retinue.)

“Portia: Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince,

If you choose wherein I am contain’d,

Straight our nuptial rights shall be solemnised;

But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,

You must be gone from hence immediately.

Arr.
I am enjoin’d by oath to observe three things;

First, never to unfold to any one

Of the right casket, never in my life

To woo a maid in way of marriage;

Lastly,

If I do fail in the fortune of my choice,

Immediately to leave you and be gone.

Portia:
To these injunctions every one doth swear

That comes to hazard for my worthless self.

Arr:
And so have I address’d me. Fortune
now

To my heart’s hope! Gold; Silver; and base
Lead.

Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath:

You shall look fairer, ere I give or hazard

What says the golden chest? Ha! Let me see;

Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.

What many men desire! That ‘many’ may be meant

By the fool multitude, that chose by show,

Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach;

Which pries not the interior, but, like the
martlet,

Builds in the weather on the outward wall,

Even in the force and the road of casualty.

I will not choose what many men will desire,

Because I will not jump with common spirits

And rank myself with barbarous multitudes.

Why then to thee, thy silver treasure-house;

Tell me once more what title thou dost bear:

Who chooseth me gets as much as he deserves

And well said too; for who shall go about

To cozen fortune and be honourable

Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume

To wear an undeserved dignity.

O! That estates, degrees, and offices

Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honour

Were purchased by the merit of the wearer.

How many then should cover that stand bare;

How many be commanded that command;

How much low peasantry would then be glean’d

From the true seed of honour; and how much honour

Pick’d from the chaff and ruin of the times

To be new-varnish’d! Well, but to my choice:

Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.

I will assume desert. Give me a key for this,

And instantly unlock my fortune here. (He opens the
silver casket)

Portia:
Too long a pause for what you find there.

Arr:
What’s
here? The portrait of a blinking idiot,

Presenting me a schedule! I will read it.

How much unlike thou art to Portia!

How much unlike my hopes and my deservings!

Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.

Did I deserve no more than a fool’s head?

Is that my prize? Are my deserts no better?”

Old
man: Sings…

(As he sings “And
then the justice, in fair round belly with capon lined, with eyes severe, and
beard of formal cut, full of wise saws and modern instances; and so he plays
his part” The scene from First part of King Henry IV Act V scene I is
enacted when the prince, King Henry, and others prepare for war. Sir John
Falstaff enters the stage after the following conversation:

(Off the stage)

“King: and, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture
thee,

Albeit considerations infinite

Do make it against it. No, good Worcester, no,

We love our people well; even those we love

That are misled upon your cousin’s part;

And will they take the offer of our grace,

Both he and they and you, yea, every man

Shall be my friend again, and I will be his.

So tell your cousin, and bring me word

What he will do; but if he will not yield,

Rebuke and dread correction wait on us,

And they shall do their office. So be gone:

We will not now be troubled with reply;

We offer fair, take it advisedly.

Prince: It will not be accepted, on my life.

The Douglas and Hotspur both together

Are confident against the world in arms.

King:
Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge;

For, on their answer, will we set on them;

And God befriend us, as our case is just!

Falstaff:
Hal, if thou see me down in the battle,

And bestride me, so ‘tis a point of friendship.

Prince:
Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship.

Say thy prayers, and farewell.

Falstaff:
I would it were bedtime, Hal, and all well.

Prince:
Why, thou owest God a death.”

(Falstaff enters fore stage)

Falstaff:
‘Tis not due yet: I would be loath to pay him before

His day. What need I be so forward with him
that calls not

On me? Well,‘tis no matter; honour pricks me
on. Yea,

But how if honour prick me off when I come on? How
then?

Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an
arm? No. Or take

Away the grief of the wound? No. Honour
hath no skill in

Surgery then? No. What is honour? A word. What is
that

Word honour? Air. A trim
reckoning! Who hath it? He that

Died o’ Wednesday. Doth he feel it?
No. Doth he hear it?

No. Is it insensible then? Yes, to the
dead. But will it not

Live with the living? No. Why?
Detraction will not suffer it.

Therefore I’ll none of it. Honour is a mere
scutcheon; and so

Ends my catechism.”

Old
man: Sings:

(As he
sings “The sixth stage shifts into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon,
with spectacles on nose and pouch on side, his youthful hose well saved, a
world too wide for his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, turning again
toward childish tremble, pipes and whistles in his sounds. the following
scene from King Lear Act IV Scene VI is enacted:

“Lear:
No, they
cannot touch me for coining; I am the king myself.

Edgar: O thou side-piercing sight!

Lear: Nature’s above art in that respect.

There’s your press-money. That fellow handles
his bow like a crow-keeper:

draw me a clothier’s yard. Look, look! a
mouse.

Peace, peace! this piece of toasted cheese will
do’t.

There’s my gauntlet; I will prove it on a
giant.

Bring up the brown bills. O! well flown,
bird;

i’ the clout, i’ the clout: hewgh! Give the
word.

Edgar: Sweet marjoram.

Lear:
Pass.

Glou.
I
know that voice.

Lear. Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They
flattered me like a dog, and told me I had white hairs in my beard ere the
black ones were there. To say ‘ay’ and ‘no’ to everything I said!
‘Ay’ and ‘no’ too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once
and the wind to make me chatter, when the thunder would not peace at my
bidding, there I found ’em , there I smelt ’em out. Go to, they are not
men o’ their words: they told me I was everything;‘t is a lie, I am not
ague-proof.

(She attempts to
touch the quill and there will be a sudden flourish and the whole stage becomes
dark. Slowly the right stage gets illuminated and the following scene
from Troilus and Cressida, Act II Scene 2 will be enacted where Cassandra, a
prophetess, comes running on to the stage)

Cassandra: “Cry, Trojans, cry! Lend me ten thousand eyes.

And I will fill them
with prophetic tears.

Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld,

Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,

Add to my clamours! Let us pay betimes

A moiety of that mass of moan to come.

Cry, Trojans, cry! Practise your eye with tears!

Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;

Our fire brand brother, Paris, burn us all.

Cry, Trojans, cry! A Helen and a woe!

Cry, cry! Troy burns, or let Helen go. (Exit)”

Left
stage gets illuminated and the girl asks in all innocence

Girl1
What does it mean?

Old man: Baby, you are! Innocent
to the core.

As elements play their role,

They please and frighten your soul.

You see things that others can’t think

And when you prophesise the world takes no wink

Boy1 Let
me try then.

(There will be a sudden flourish and the whole
stage becomes dark. Slowly the right stage gets illuminated and the
following scene from Hamlet, the Prince of Denmark, Act III Scene 1 is enacted
where Hamlet, the prince comes on to the stage)

Hamlet: “To
be, or not to be: that is the question;

Whether‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to takes arms against a sea of troubles,

And by opposing end them? To die: to
sleep;

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heartaches and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to, ‘tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish’d, To die, to sleep;

To sleep; perchance to dream; ay, there’s the rub;

For in that sdeleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled this mortal coil,

Must give us pause. There’s the respect

That makes calamity or so long life;

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,

The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

The patient merit of the unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscover’d country from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bare those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and movement

With this regard there currents turn awry,

And lose the name of action --Soft you now!

The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons

Be all my sins remember'd.

As the left stage
gets illuminated back

Boy1 (to
Old man): What does it mean?

Old man: It means you
become a philosophic dialectic

And often your action is impeded by your logic.

Girl2:
(touches the quill) after
a flourish the scene from Merchant of Venice Act IV Scene 1 is enacted:

“Portia: The
quality of mercy is not strain’d,

It droppeth as gentle rain from heaven

Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless’d;

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes;

‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes

The throned monarch better than his crown;

His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,

The attribute to awe and majesty,

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;

But the mercy is above this sceptred sway

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,

It is an attribute to God himself;

An earthly power doth then show likest God’s

When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,

Though justice be thy plea, consider this,

That in the course of justice none of us

Should see salvation; we do pray for mercy,

And that the same player doth teach us all to
render

The deeds of mercy.

And when the light
are restored to the left stage the old man looks at Girl2 and says:

Old man: Honey!
It means you love fair play

As naturally as a bee honey.

As Boy2 touches the quill there will be flourish
and the following from Julius Caeser Act III Scene 2 when Brutus tries to
defend his action is enacted:

“Brutus: Be
patient till the last.

Romans, countrymen, and lovers!

hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may
hear:

believe me for mine honour, and have respect to
mine honour,

that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom,

and awake your senses, that you may the better
judge.

If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend
of Caeser’s,

to him I say that Brutus’ love to Caeser was no
less than his.

If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against
Caeser,

this is my answer:

Not that I loved Caeser less, but I loved Rome
more.

Had you rather Caeser were living, and die all
slaves,

than that the Caeser were dead, to live all free
men?

As Caeser loved me, I weep for him; as he

was fortunate, I rejoice at it;

as he was valiant, I honour him;

but as he was ambitious, I slew him.

There is tears for his love;

joy for his fortune;

honour for his valour;

and death for his ambition.

Who is here so base, that he

would be a bondman?

If any, speak; for him have I offended.

Who is here so rude, that would not be a Roman?

If any, speak. for him have I offended.

Who is here so vile, that will not love his
country?

If any, speak; for him have I offended.

I pause for a reply.

(Behind
the stage)

Chorus: None, Brutus, none.

Brutus:
Then none have I offended.

I have done no more to Caeser

than you shall do to Brutus.

The question of his death

was enrolled in the capitol;

his glory not extenuated,

wherein he was worthy,

nor his offences enforced, for which

he suffered death.

{Enter Antony and others, with Caeser’s body}

Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony:

Who, though he had no hand in his death,

shall receive the benefit of his dying,

a place in the commonwealth;

as which of you shall not?

With this I depart:

that as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome,

I have the same dagger for myself,

when it shall please my country to need my death.”

Old man: (With
Boy 2)It means you are valiant and a good
speaker too

You can convince your detractors, as your
supporters,

With ease. But if you don’t permit passion to
overcome you,

You will not regret your action as Brutus did.

(Behind the stage:
voices of ghosts sprits and apparitions)

Chorus: What
about us?

We wafted in air ‘fore he was born

And came to life donning mantles under his pen.

We had our second lives,

When we played, danced when bestowed rare powers,

And as he met his elements,

So were we restored

Give us a chance to say our thanks

To leave our shadows along with his images.

(All the ghosts, spirits and apparitions come to
the fore stage and mingle with the characters already appeared, and all of them
sing in unison. Spirits, ghosts and apparitions stand one side and other
characters stand the other side to start with)

Song:

(Characters):

He gave us birth

He gave us breath

He gave us mirth and mantle

Spirits:
(Pointing the statue)

He gave us birth

He gave us breath

He gave us mirth and mantle

Characters: He gave us life

He made us fife

And bade us hustle and hassle

Spirits
He blessed us life

Dramatis
Personae

Old Man: Who taught child Shakespeare all the
stories which later become his literary corpus.

Boy 1 }

Boy 2 } Children playing rugby who accidentally
stumble upon the Oldman

Girl 1 }

Girl 2 }

Shakespearean
Characters and text

Miranda: } From The
Tempest Act I Scene II

Prospero: }

Polonius: }
From Hamlet, The Prince of Denmark Act I
Scene III

Hamlet }
Act III Scene I

Romeo: } From Romeo and Juliet Act II Scene
II

Juliet: }

Portia: } From The Merchant of Venice, Act IV
Scene I

Arragon: }
Act
II Scene IX

King Lear }
From King Lear, Act IV Scene VI and Act V Scene III

Gloucester }

Edgar }

Brutus }
From Julius Caesar Act III Scene II

Sir John Falstaff} From King Henry IV, Act V Scene
I

Cassandra }
From Troilus and Cressida, Act II, Scene II

And ………………Spirits, Ghosts, Apparitions, Witches,
Fairies and their ilk.

(From
the top branch of Muse

An
eerie melody sweeps through ether

Matter
springs to life for a while to amuse

And
the spirit returns, saying it doesn’t matter)

A
humble tribute to his master by a subject

On the eve
of his 400th Death Anniversary

The
Word Wiz

(Playlet)

(Note:
All text in italics other than stage directions is Shakespearean)

When the curtain
raises the fade out is on the memorial of Shakespeare. It will be in the
typical Indian fashion: The bust of the bard in ruins sitting on a high
platform, dusty and faded, wrapped in cobwebs and littered with bird droppings.
The place looks dark, desolate and remote. Foot of the platform littered with
dry leaves all over. The growth of bushes and the dust collecting over betray
that it has been abandoned for long.

From afar children
playing rugby, their cries, their calls, their shouts and hullaballoo is heard.

As the stage gets
slowly illuminated an old man enters from one end of the stage and slowly
passes by it. He stops and looks at the statue for a while putting his
hand over his eyes and then suddenly exclaims

Old man: “Oh! Me! Gee
god! What a curse!”…

(He dusts the
statue passionately with his hands and his towel and cleans the surrounds
plucking few plants from the neighbourhood.)

When I told you those myths and legends

They were just that.

But when you breathed life into ’em

On this Globe, they just walked into every home

God had summoned Light

But failed to keep his work intact.

Then came you, to complement his acquit,

It is no hyperbole, his whole, your ‘less’
dominate’.

His make withered… See you me?

While yours, walks free, steeple chasing time.

(Wind changes
direction frequently putting to nought what he had done earlier. Then on one
occasion he roars at it)

“You element! Are you in your elements?

Know you what you have been doing?

Rage as you wish elsewhere.

But here, weave as gentle not to move a feather

The Bard is resting here under.

Might be scripting a tale or two to the new
audiences.”

(The wind ceases. As
he resumes his work, children playing rugby enter chasing a ball that has come
off-the-stage. The ball hits the old man. All of them halt and put on faces of
regret. One of the boys comes forward.)

Boy1: We
are so very sorry. It was an accident.

Our playfulness over ran our propriety.

But Sir! What are you doing at this forlorn place?

Old man: It’s Easter
today

But it seems it was only yesterday.

I was sitting under that tree

When youth of your age used to flock around me

Pestering to tell them a tale each day.

Girl1: Oh! Then I get you. You’re the famed
story teller.

My granny tells many stories about you.

Where have you been all along?

Why don’t you sing us that “All the world is a
stage…”

Boy
2 (to
other boys) Boys!
It’s quits for the game.

(With the old man)
Tell us some stories.

All
Yes, we want to hear some stories.

(In
chorus): It
was long since we heard any story.

Boy
2: No, but first that song.

Old man: Music
and tales are so close to your heart, I know.

But tell me do you want the song or the tale first.

All:
We want the song
first.

(Old man sings the song ‘All the world is a
stage…’

As he begins the song, fade out will be on him.)

(As he sings the
song characters from his plays come one after another and enact the seven
stages of life. The stage is divided between the old man and the
characters and the focus will be alternating between them. When the old
man sings the line “…at first an infant, mewing and puking in the nurse’s
arms…” The scene from The Tempest Act I
Scene II is enacted when Prospero speaks to Miranda)

“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and
women are players;

They have their exits and entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts, the acts
being seven ages.

At first the infant, mewing and puking in the
nurse’s arms….

(A
howling of Tempest precedes the entry of characters)

“Miranda: “(Father!)

You have often

Begun to tell me what I am; but stopped,

And left me to a bootless inquisition,

Concluding, ‘stay: not yet.’

Prospero: (Miranda!)

The hour’s now come;

The very minute bids thee open thine ear;

Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember

A time before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou canst, for then thou was not

Out three years old.

Miranda:
Certainly, sir, I can.

Prospero: By
what? By any other house, or person?

Of anything the image tell me, that

Hath kept with thy remembrance.

Miranda:
‘Tis far off;

And rather like a dream, than an assurance

That my remembrance warrants. Had I not

Four or five women once, that tended me?

Pros:
Thou hadst, and more, Miranda.
But how is it

That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou
else

In the dark backward and abysm of time?

If thou remember’st aught, ere thou cam’st here,

How thou cam’st here, thou may’st.

Miranda: But
that I do not.

Prospero: Twelve
year since, Miranda, twelve year since

Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and

A prince of power.

Miranda: Sir,
are not you my father?

Prospero: Thy
mother was a piece of virtue, and

She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father

Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir

A princess; no worse issued.

Miranda:
O, the heavens!

What foul play had we that we came from thence?

Or blessed wasn’t we did?

Prospero:
Both, both, my girl:

By foul play, as thou say’st, we were heaved

Thence;

But blessedly holp hither.

Miranda: My
heart bleeds

To think of the teen that I have turned you to,

Which is from my remembrance.

[Focus shifts back to
the old man. As he sings: ‘ then the whining school boy, with his satchel, and
shining morning face, creeping like a snail unwillingly to school’ ………. the
scene from The Hamlet Act I scene III is enacted where Polonius gives
advice to his son Laertes:]

“Polonius: Yet here, Laertes! Aboard, aboard, for
the shame!

The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,

And you are stay’d for. There; my blessing

With thee!

And these few precepts in thy memory

See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,

Nor any unproportion’d thought his act.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar;

The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,

Grapple them to your soul with hoops of steel;

But do not dull thy palm with entertainment

Of each new-hatch’d, unfledg’d comrade.
Beware

Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,

Bear‘t that the opposed may beware of these.

Give everyman thine ear, but few thy voice;

Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgement.

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy;

For the apparel oft proclaims the man,

And they in France of the best rank and station

Are most select and generous, chief in that.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be;

For loan oft loses both itself and a friend,

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This above all; to thine own self be true,

And it must follow, as night the day,

Thou canst not then be false to any man.

Farewell; my blessing season this in thee!”

Old man Sings…

(As he sings “And
then the lover, sighing like furnace, with woeful ballad made to his mistress’
eyebrow”the scene from Romeo and Juliet Act II Scene II is enacted
where Romeo speaks to Juliet by her window)

“Romeo: By
a name I know not how to tell thee who I am;

My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,

Because it is an enemy to thee;

Had I it written, I would tear that word.

Juliet:
My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words

Of that tongue’s utterance, yet I know the sound:

Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?

Romeo:
Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.

Juliet:
How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?

The orchard walls are high and hard to climb;

And the place death, considering who thou art,

Of any of my kinsman find thee here.

Romeo:
With love’s light wings did I o’er-perch these walls;

For stony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do that dares love attempt;

And therefore your kinsmen are no stop to me.

Juliet:
If they do see they will murder thee.

Romeo:
Alack! There lies more peril in thine
eye

Than twenty of their swords; look thou but sweet,

And I am proof against their enmity

Juliet:
I would not for the world they saw thee
here,

Romeo:
I have night’s cloak to hide from
their eyes;

And but thou love me, let them find me here;

My life were better ended by their hate,

Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.”

Old man: Sings

As he
sings “then a soldier, full of strange oaths, and bearded like a pard,
jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, seeking the babble reputation
even in the cannon’s mouth” the scene from The Merchant of Venice Act II
Scene IX when the prince of Arragon makes his bid to select the right casket is
enacted: Flourish of Cornets. Enter the Prince of Arragon, Portia, with
their retinue.)

“Portia: Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince,

If you choose wherein I am contain’d,

Straight our nuptial rights shall be solemnised;

But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,

You must be gone from hence immediately.

Arr.
I am enjoin’d by oath to observe three things;

First, never to unfold to any one

Of the right casket, never in my life

To woo a maid in way of marriage;

Lastly,

If I do fail in the fortune of my choice,

Immediately to leave you and be gone.

Portia:
To these injunctions every one doth swear

That comes to hazard for my worthless self.

Arr:
And so have I address’d me. Fortune
now

To my heart’s hope! Gold; Silver; and base
Lead.

Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath:

You shall look fairer, ere I give or hazard

What says the golden chest? Ha! Let me see;

Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.

What many men desire! That ‘many’ may be meant

By the fool multitude, that chose by show,

Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach;

Which pries not the interior, but, like the
martlet,

Builds in the weather on the outward wall,

Even in the force and the road of casualty.

I will not choose what many men will desire,

Because I will not jump with common spirits

And rank myself with barbarous multitudes.

Why then to thee, thy silver treasure-house;

Tell me once more what title thou dost bear:

Who chooseth me gets as much as he deserves

And well said too; for who shall go about

To cozen fortune and be honourable

Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume

To wear an undeserved dignity.

O! That estates, degrees, and offices

Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honour

Were purchased by the merit of the wearer.

How many then should cover that stand bare;

How many be commanded that command;

How much low peasantry would then be glean’d

From the true seed of honour; and how much honour

Pick’d from the chaff and ruin of the times

To be new-varnish’d! Well, but to my choice:

Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.

I will assume desert. Give me a key for this,

And instantly unlock my fortune here. (He opens the
silver casket)

Portia:
Too long a pause for what you find there.

Arr:
What’s
here? The portrait of a blinking idiot,

Presenting me a schedule! I will read it.

How much unlike thou art to Portia!

How much unlike my hopes and my deservings!

Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.

Did I deserve no more than a fool’s head?

Is that my prize? Are my deserts no better?”

Old
man: Sings…

(As he sings “And
then the justice, in fair round belly with capon lined, with eyes severe, and
beard of formal cut, full of wise saws and modern instances; and so he plays
his part” The scene from First part of King Henry IV Act V scene I is
enacted when the prince, King Henry, and others prepare for war. Sir John
Falstaff enters the stage after the following conversation:

(Off the stage)

“King: and, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture
thee,

Albeit considerations infinite

Do make it against it. No, good Worcester, no,

We love our people well; even those we love

That are misled upon your cousin’s part;

And will they take the offer of our grace,

Both he and they and you, yea, every man

Shall be my friend again, and I will be his.

So tell your cousin, and bring me word

What he will do; but if he will not yield,

Rebuke and dread correction wait on us,

And they shall do their office. So be gone:

We will not now be troubled with reply;

We offer fair, take it advisedly.

Prince: It will not be accepted, on my life.

The Douglas and Hotspur both together

Are confident against the world in arms.

King:
Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge;

For, on their answer, will we set on them;

And God befriend us, as our case is just!

Falstaff:
Hal, if thou see me down in the battle,

And bestride me, so ‘tis a point of friendship.

Prince:
Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship.

Say thy prayers, and farewell.

Falstaff:
I would it were bedtime, Hal, and all well.

Prince:
Why, thou owest God a death.”

(Falstaff enters fore stage)

Falstaff:
‘Tis not due yet: I would be loath to pay him before

His day. What need I be so forward with him
that calls not

On me? Well,‘tis no matter; honour pricks me
on. Yea,

But how if honour prick me off when I come on? How
then?

Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an
arm? No. Or take

Away the grief of the wound? No. Honour
hath no skill in

Surgery then? No. What is honour? A word. What is
that

Word honour? Air. A trim
reckoning! Who hath it? He that

Died o’ Wednesday. Doth he feel it?
No. Doth he hear it?

No. Is it insensible then? Yes, to the
dead. But will it not

Live with the living? No. Why?
Detraction will not suffer it.

Therefore I’ll none of it. Honour is a mere
scutcheon; and so

Ends my catechism.”

Old
man: Sings:

(As he
sings “The sixth stage shifts into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon,
with spectacles on nose and pouch on side, his youthful hose well saved, a
world too wide for his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, turning again
toward childish tremble, pipes and whistles in his sounds. the following
scene from King Lear Act IV Scene VI is enacted:

“Lear:
No, they
cannot touch me for coining; I am the king myself.

Edgar: O thou side-piercing sight!

Lear: Nature’s above art in that respect.

There’s your press-money. That fellow handles
his bow like a crow-keeper:

draw me a clothier’s yard. Look, look! a
mouse.

Peace, peace! this piece of toasted cheese will
do’t.

There’s my gauntlet; I will prove it on a
giant.

Bring up the brown bills. O! well flown,
bird;

i’ the clout, i’ the clout: hewgh! Give the
word.

Edgar: Sweet marjoram.

Lear:
Pass.

Glou.
I
know that voice.

Lear. Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They
flattered me like a dog, and told me I had white hairs in my beard ere the
black ones were there. To say ‘ay’ and ‘no’ to everything I said!
‘Ay’ and ‘no’ too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once
and the wind to make me chatter, when the thunder would not peace at my
bidding, there I found ’em , there I smelt ’em out. Go to, they are not
men o’ their words: they told me I was everything;‘t is a lie, I am not
ague-proof.

(She attempts to
touch the quill and there will be a sudden flourish and the whole stage becomes
dark. Slowly the right stage gets illuminated and the following scene
from Troilus and Cressida, Act II Scene 2 will be enacted where Cassandra, a
prophetess, comes running on to the stage)

Cassandra: “Cry, Trojans, cry! Lend me ten thousand eyes.

And I will fill them
with prophetic tears.

Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld,

Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,

Add to my clamours! Let us pay betimes

A moiety of that mass of moan to come.

Cry, Trojans, cry! Practise your eye with tears!

Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;

Our fire brand brother, Paris, burn us all.

Cry, Trojans, cry! A Helen and a woe!

Cry, cry! Troy burns, or let Helen go. (Exit)”

Left
stage gets illuminated and the girl asks in all innocence

Girl1
What does it mean?

Old man: Baby, you are! Innocent
to the core.

As elements play their role,

They please and frighten your soul.

You see things that others can’t think

And when you prophesise the world takes no wink

Boy1 Let
me try then.

(There will be a sudden flourish and the whole
stage becomes dark. Slowly the right stage gets illuminated and the
following scene from Hamlet, the Prince of Denmark, Act III Scene 1 is enacted
where Hamlet, the prince comes on to the stage)

Hamlet: “To
be, or not to be: that is the question;

Whether‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to takes arms against a sea of troubles,

And by opposing end them? To die: to
sleep;

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heartaches and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to, ‘tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish’d, To die, to sleep;

To sleep; perchance to dream; ay, there’s the rub;

For in that sdeleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled this mortal coil,

Must give us pause. There’s the respect

That makes calamity or so long life;

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,

The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

The patient merit of the unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscover’d country from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bare those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and movement

With this regard there currents turn awry,

And lose the name of action --Soft you now!

The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons

Be all my sins remember'd.

As the left stage
gets illuminated back

Boy1 (to
Old man): What does it mean?

Old man: It means you
become a philosophic dialectic

And often your action is impeded by your logic.

Girl2:
(touches the quill) after
a flourish the scene from Merchant of Venice Act IV Scene 1 is enacted:

“Portia: The
quality of mercy is not strain’d,

It droppeth as gentle rain from heaven

Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless’d;

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes;

‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes

The throned monarch better than his crown;

His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,

The attribute to awe and majesty,

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;

But the mercy is above this sceptred sway

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,

It is an attribute to God himself;

An earthly power doth then show likest God’s

When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,

Though justice be thy plea, consider this,

That in the course of justice none of us

Should see salvation; we do pray for mercy,

And that the same player doth teach us all to
render

The deeds of mercy.

And when the light
are restored to the left stage the old man looks at Girl2 and says:

Old man: Honey!
It means you love fair play

As naturally as a bee honey.

As Boy2 touches the quill there will be flourish
and the following from Julius Caeser Act III Scene 2 when Brutus tries to
defend his action is enacted:

“Brutus: Be
patient till the last.

Romans, countrymen, and lovers!

hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may
hear:

believe me for mine honour, and have respect to
mine honour,

that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom,

and awake your senses, that you may the better
judge.

If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend
of Caeser’s,

to him I say that Brutus’ love to Caeser was no
less than his.

If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against
Caeser,

this is my answer:

Not that I loved Caeser less, but I loved Rome
more.

Had you rather Caeser were living, and die all
slaves,

than that the Caeser were dead, to live all free
men?

As Caeser loved me, I weep for him; as he

was fortunate, I rejoice at it;

as he was valiant, I honour him;

but as he was ambitious, I slew him.

There is tears for his love;

joy for his fortune;

honour for his valour;

and death for his ambition.

Who is here so base, that he

would be a bondman?

If any, speak; for him have I offended.

Who is here so rude, that would not be a Roman?

If any, speak. for him have I offended.

Who is here so vile, that will not love his
country?

If any, speak; for him have I offended.

I pause for a reply.

(Behind
the stage)

Chorus: None, Brutus, none.

Brutus:
Then none have I offended.

I have done no more to Caeser

than you shall do to Brutus.

The question of his death

was enrolled in the capitol;

his glory not extenuated,

wherein he was worthy,

nor his offences enforced, for which

he suffered death.

{Enter Antony and others, with Caeser’s body}

Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony:

Who, though he had no hand in his death,

shall receive the benefit of his dying,

a place in the commonwealth;

as which of you shall not?

With this I depart:

that as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome,

I have the same dagger for myself,

when it shall please my country to need my death.”

Old man: (With
Boy 2)It means you are valiant and a good
speaker too

You can convince your detractors, as your
supporters,

With ease. But if you don’t permit passion to
overcome you,

You will not regret your action as Brutus did.

(Behind the stage:
voices of ghosts sprits and apparitions)

Chorus: What
about us?

We wafted in air ‘fore he was born

And came to life donning mantles under his pen.

We had our second lives,

When we played, danced when bestowed rare powers,

And as he met his elements,

So were we restored

Give us a chance to say our thanks

To leave our shadows along with his images.

(All the ghosts, spirits and apparitions come to
the fore stage and mingle with the characters already appeared, and all of them
sing in unison. Spirits, ghosts and apparitions stand one side and other
characters stand the other side to start with)